Bees are born fully grown.

Poetry – Themes of Loss

Relapsing into an infinite spiral of clichés
Themes of loss overplaying like a jukebox radio show rerun
I’m most vulnerable in love like a white knight being struck by lightning
The eye of the storm is far less frightening
I’m flourishing like an apple in the garden of Eden
Only to be eaten and discarded

A man gone mouse within an owls pellet
Strung out like an old guitar
That hasn’t been strummed for much too long
As our insides rot away I’m here to say that I’m not okay
With themes of loss

As we walk through gravesites looking for a buried past
Nothing but dead leaves remain
A whistling in the graveyard stirs the crows that sit perched along the iron fence
Which call for me all night and day to talk about themes of loss
The black knights tell me all of their secrets as I’m exposed to their infinite wisdom

I know all
I see all
For I have become death
As I sit here perched along the iron fence
I spend my days guiding those who struggle and cope
With themes of loss